


learning to fly

by huphilpuffs



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Airports, Anxiety, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 14:10:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15366369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huphilpuffs/pseuds/huphilpuffs
Summary: Airports make Phil anxious.





	learning to fly

**Author's Note:**

> I went on a plane for the first time. This happened. Thank you to obsessivelymoody for beta'ing for me.

Phil’s stomach always twists when he steps up to airport security.

It’s stupid, he thinks. But a lot of things that make his pulse pick up and breath come quick are. Like social interaction. And phone calls. And changing his haircut. 

He’s used to it by now. Dan’s standing in line behind him, hands in his pockets. He puts Phil’s carry on in the plastic bin for him, because Dan’s used to it, too.

A man in a uniform checks Phil’s ID. 

A woman stares at him, uninterested, as he steps through the metal detector. 

It doesn’t beep. 

Phil’s chest heaves with a breath. He turns back to catch Dan’s reassuring smile as Dan does the same.

\---

His leg bounces as they sit in the airport.

There’s uncomfy sofas and too many chairs, and an infinite rumble of conversation milling around the lounge. Dan went to buy crisps from a vending machine and Phil fumbles to take his phone out of his bag. He’s long since learned that staring at airport walls does nothing to ease the pressure in his chest.

He plays  _ Crossy Road _ , because it’s familiar and mindless and has been occupying space on his phone uselessly for months. 

To his left, a man is bouncing a child on his knee. To his right, a woman in a suit is talking loudly on the phone.

Dan comes back, sitting down without a word. He stretches his legs too far in front of him and leans back and drops a bag of crisps onto Phil’s lap.

“Stress eat,” he says. 

Phil wishes he could laugh. He tries too, but it comes out tense, so he just tears his bag of crisps open instead.

\---

“Everyone on flight 1342 to Edinburgh can now advance to door C for boarding.”

Phil’s leg jerks. It’s not their flight. He’s taken it before, for a quick trip back home when he had the money for a ticket and didn’t feel like wasting time sitting on a train. But today, they’re flying to the Isle of Man and their plane doesn’t board for another twenty minutes or so.

Next to him, Dan chuckles. That kind he knows isn’t mean or judgemental because Dan has things like this too.

Phil’s laughed at Dan’s anxious quirks, too.

“You okay?”

He nods, shoving his phone back into his pocket, because this close to boarding silly games stop helping.

“You’ve flown loads,” says Dan.

“I know,” says Phil.

Because he has. To Florida and back again, to Vidcon and Playlist, every time he’s visited his parents since they moved, and all around the world for TATINOF. It’s almost automatic now, registering, going through security, letting Dan deal with getting their shared suitcase checked because Dan’s better at this.

He’s flown loads, too.

“It’s going to be okay,” says Dan.

Phil nods. “I know.”

\---

Dan’s hand smooths along Phil’s leg.

It’s only then that Phil realizes he’s jittering again. He looks down at where Dan’s hand wraps around his knee, squeezes at where his bones seem to jut out against his skinny jeans. And then up at all the people in the airport far too preoccupied with their own lives to care about such a simple touch. 

“Someone could see,” Phil whispers.

Dan nods. He doesn’t even look up, just lets his hand slide off Phil’s leg to rest on his own lap instead. Because people do see, in airports and in the streets and in shops. Sometimes they don’t care. And sometimes Phil’s stomach goes tight with the possibility.

He can’t deal with it today.

“I’m gonna go to the loo,” he says.

Dan looks up, smiles, and hums.

\---

There’s a lot of people in the airport bathroom. 

Phil lingers awkwardly by the sinks for a moment because the only free urinal is between two strangers and he always feels weird stepping into vacant spaces. Social etiquette and all that, he supposes. The flight is boarding in fifteen minutes and Phil’s bladder tends to be shy and he ends up stepping into a stall instead.

He uses the toilet, and then stands in the stall for a few moments too long, until his brain starts questioning if other people are wondering what he’s doing.

They’re not wondering, Phil reminds himself. He flushes the toilet and steps up to the sink, next to a boy in joggers and a hoodie who doesn’t look up from the flow of water down the drain.

Phil looks up at his own reflection, his face a little too pale and eyes a little too wide, and his stomach twists again.

He wipes his wet hands on his jeans and leaves the toilet.

\---

Ten minutes before boarding he goes through their carry on.

There’s both of their wallets, changes of clothes they always shove into their bag just in case their suitcase gets lost. They both brought their Nintendo Switch and earbuds and phone chargers, even though the flight is short. Phil digs among their things until his nails are raking over the bottom of the bag.

“Do we have everything?” asks Dan.

Phil knows it’s for his benefit. It always is. “Yeah.”

Still, he shoves his hand into his pocket to triple check that his phone is, in fact, still there.

“Yeah,” he repeats.

Dan smiles. He puts his own phone away. “Why don’t you text your mum, tell her we’ll be boarding soon?”

Phil does. His gaze trips over the time to see there’s only five minutes until scheduled boarding, and his heat lurches in his chest. Dan fits his arm over the back of the sofa as he does, fingers drifting across the round of Phil’s shoulder. This time, he decides not to remind Dan someone might see.

“Mum says to have a safe flight,” he mumbles.

“We will,” says Dan. 

“I know,” says Phil.

“Boarding will now begin for flight 3282 to the Isle of Man. Passengers can advance to door B for boarding now,” says a voice overhead.

\---

The anxiety dissipates fast. 

It always does.

They flash their boarding pass and ID at a woman with a blue and red scarf tied around her neck. They step onto the plane and wedge their too-long bodies into too-small seats. Phil’s knees press against the seat in front of them. Dan groans as he bends down to shove their bag under the seat in front of them.

The plane starts rumbling beneath them. And then drives towards the runway. And then accelerates so quickly Phil feels like his body is pinned to the seat.

At this airport, there’s always a moment when Phil worries their plane will topple forward into the water, but it never does.

Dan knocks their ankles together and smiles.

Phil smiles too.

\---

“Would you like anything to drink?”

The plane is level now. The city they left has faded to distant bumps over the horizon. Wisps of clouds drift outside Phil’s window and it doesn’t feel scary anymore. The actual flight never really does.

“Can I get a white wine?” asks Phil. 

The flight attendant, too cheery to be genuine, smiles and nods and walks away. Phil raises the arm rest between them, lets his fingers drift along the outside of Dan’s leg.

“Share this with me?”

Dan smiles brilliantly, like Phil’s talking about so much more than a drink before they begin their brief visit with his parents. Phil supposes that maybe he is.

The flight attendant brings him back his drink, and then gets a second one for Dan. 

They clink their glasses together before taking a sip.


End file.
